


Sleep

by Rainripple



Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 04:27:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4946719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainripple/pseuds/Rainripple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perhaps you should sleep like this more often; it would do a whole lot of good for your well-being.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Here’s a little something I wrote for Law’s birthday. The end bit is kind of based off a piece of fanart i saw ages ago and i tried finding it but i had no luck :( Never mind, I hope you still like this anyway. It starts off kind of pessimistic but it gets better I promise! It's written in 2nd person rather than 3rd like i usually do.

You wake up gasping for air, shaking and shivering even though you’ve still got that raging fever that knocked you on your ass several days ago and kept you unconscious for at least a day if not more. And even though it’s beginning to ease up enough that you’re no longer sleeping for more than 12 hours at a time, it’s still too long, still enough time for the nightmares to come and remind you how much of a weakling you are.

You force yourself out of bed and almost want to jump back inside the warm covers but you grit your teeth and move towards the door out to fresh air. If you stay in here too long, your minds just going start to imagining things. The shadows are going to twist into shapes of things you want to forget: fires, wires and gun toting men.

You love the warmth but not when it reminds you of the fires that have surely burnt everything you’ve ever loved into a fine crisp. The white town you used to love will be gone now, chargrilled ruins that will be a ghost of the lively place that used to be the setting of many festivals gone by.

Your parents, your sister, your colleagues, your nun, everyone will be dead and they’ve probably either been left to decompose or taken away to be incinerated. They wouldn’t have a grave even if you bothered looking.

Though you may be alive, you’ve hardly got a better life yourself. The desire for revenge is still within you and every year you get fevers that incapacitate you for several days in the worse cases. The Amber Lead syndrome has long been removed but it had been present long enough that it weakened your immune system dangerously. Perhaps one day it will kill you.

You tug a random hoodie over your head as you exit the room and half stumble, half shuffle your way as best as you can up until you can finally leave the submarine’s stuffy depths.

The sea breeze helps calm you slightly. It’s slightly chilly so it shakes you awake and chases away the last remnants of your what feels like distant nightmares. It’s as it disturbs your fluffy hair when you realise you’ve left your hat downstairs but honestly, you don’t care anymore.

Three of your closest crewmembers are out on deck and it’s Penguin who calls out to you. “Captain what’re you doing out here?”

You shrug. “Getting fresh air.”

And Penguin should know better, he knows what it means when you say that but he still insists on saying, “Go back to bed Captain.”

“No.”

“You’re not going to get better out here.”

“I’m staying for a few more minutes.”

Penguin sighs in resignation at your stubbornness. “At least sit down against Bepo will you? You look like you’re going to collapse on the spot.”

And well, you’re not exactly going to complain, not when that’s exactly how you feel. Just the few steps to ascend from the insides of the sub have already sapped your energy and you’re pretty much knackered.

“Aye Aye Captain, you can lie on meeeee- snore.”

Bepo’s sleep talking again but you do as your crewmates have said and recline in your usual position against your favourite polar bear. It’s a beautiful night to look at the stars and it’s as you identify the obvious ones that you absent-mindly acknowledge that to those stars, they’re all just as insignificant in comparison.

Those stars might only have looked like small but dazzling specks to you but to them, everyone on this planet is equally insignificant to them. It wouldn’t matter if you were a commoner, a Shichibukai or a Tenryubito, you’d still mean nothing. Surprisingly it does wonders for your self-deprecating mind-set.

You know that Penguin knows you’re pondering something but thankfully he says nothing. He knows you well and he knows that it’s best to let you sort out your own thoughts and get your own feelings under control.

After all if you let your negative mentality physically disable you, you’d be a pretty shitty captain and you wouldn’t be leading them in the first place. There have been rare cases when you’ve been in need for a shoulder to cry on but tonight is not one of those nights.

Tonight is a night for simply pondering and getting your thoughts sorted. And also for…stroking Bepo’s fur. It’s quite calming to just hold one of his paws and examine the pads while methodically caressing his fur.

The repetitiveness of it is almost putting you to sleep and indeed your eyes are already drooping slightly. Being feverous makes it easier for you to fall asleep and despite your usual habits of avoiding sleep as much as possible, you take advantage of the situation and allow yourself to relax.

You’re slumping considerably but you’ve slipped far enough away from consciousness that you don’t really care when you feel someone lay you flat so you’re curling up to Bepo and pillowing your head on his shoulder. Clearly you’re not completely gone yet though because a few minutes later, you feel something feathery fall on top of you and cover you like a blanket.

You lazily crank one eye open to glance over it and look up at Penguin and Shachi before your eye shuts again.

“Happy birthday. You better not ruin this one like you did with the coat we made you last year Captain.”

And of course you aren’t going to, not when it’s a feathery mantle just like the one your dear Cora-san used to wear. True it’s not burnt and grotty with dust from his constant falling over but it’s still enough of a (thankfully pleasant) reminder.

“Of course I won’t.” you whisper.

You’re 27 but now you feel like you’re 12 again. The feathers are making you nostalgic and for a moment before you finally surrender to sleep, you pretend that you’re a child once more sleeping under Cora-san’s coat and staying undisturbed save for the rise and fall of his chest.

Perhaps you should sleep more like this; it would probably do a whole lot of good for your well-being.


End file.
